


PA works

by anastasiaclaire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:03:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiaclaire/pseuds/anastasiaclaire
Summary: Basically the Reader as a PA to all of the Marvel actors! I'm open to requests 100%. Probably this will end up never finished, but let me know if you want me to keep writing it 😅





	PA works

You were Chris' personal assistant. Yes, Chris Evans. You thought it was crazy too when you got the call, you'd always been a fan of his movies. It was real, though, despite the fact when you broke into this profession, you never imagined being a PA for someone so. Hot. Famous. Amazing. Kind, too, which was somewhat unexpected. 

"Is this a parking ticket?" You asked, picking up the little slip of paper from his dining room table. 

"Yes.." He responded, giving an awkward little laugh. "I meant to text you about it last night. No parking zone." Chris explained, rubbing the back of his neck with a cheesy and apologetic little smile.

"Another celebrity thinking they're immune to the laws of no parking zones. What a shame." You teased, copying down the information and typing it into your phone, looking up the number to call and sort it out. "The PAs across America chatline will hear about you, Mr. Evans." You playfully threatened, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

"Come on now, " he said, feigning as if he was about to beg for mercy, but instead turning around and opening the fridge. "I told you. Call me Chris." He said for the thousandth time, throwing a handsome smile over his shoulder and reaching for the orange juice. 

You rolled your eyes, denying the instant blood that rushed to your cheeks when he smiled. "Of course, Mr. Evans." You shot back, looking through your planner for the day and glancing at the clock. "Twenty minutes to get ready, and you need to eat, too. You always forget. Want me to make you something?" You asked, looking over at him. 

Chris usually felt a little weird having a PA, for him, it felt rude. Like he was ordering you around ruthlessly when in truth you had to offer most things. "Chris." You said, snapping out of his daze. 

"Oh, sorry." He gave a tight smile. "Sure but uh. I can handle cooking and you know, making my own meals." He assured, hesitant as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. 

"Oh, I know." You said with a little smile. "But ramen and frozen food don't count as a proper meal. Mr. Evans." You finished the name with a playful pat to his shoulder as you walked by him to the fridge so you could assess what meals could be made. 

"Just when I thought we were making progress on that name thing." He pointed out, taking a sip from the glass. He turned toward you, leaning on the counter and watching you as you grab things from the fridge he didn't even know he had. "You're the best." He complimented before once again raising the glass to his lips.

"I am, aren't I?" You quipped, setting the things down on the counter and bumping the fridge closed with your hip. "You have a surprising amount of fresh produce for a man who goes out of his way to not be home during mealtimes so you can hey fast food." You muse, and it earns a little 'hey!' from Chris, even though you're right.

"You're staring." You commented, and he cleared his throat and turned away, busying himself by rustling through papers on the counter, doing absolutely nothing with them except covering up the fact that he was indeed staring. "Sorry, I just zoned out."

"Sure." You responded and leaned down to get a cutting board. The second Chris turned around to explain, his gaze was met with nothing but ass, and he choked on what seemed like air. 

You threw a glance over your shoulder and rolled your eyes, standing straight again. "Really, Mr. Evans?


End file.
